A Day Like Any Other
by Scattered Logic
Summary: The past always affects the present, but only if you can remember it.


Her morning begins in the same fashion each day, and today will be no exception. Narcissa rises before her husband and tends to her toilette, then goes down to the kitchens to ensure that breakfast is properly prepared. Lucius can be finicky about his meals and the house elves know better than to singe a piece of toast or overcook the eggs. However, Narcissa takes a great deal of pride in caring for her husband and she prefers to oversee things personally.

Her next self-imposed duty is to sort out the morning post. Narcissa attends to any invitations to parties or other social events, but Lucius' private correspondence is always placed unopened on a small silver tray adjacent to his cup and saucer. This morning, a letter lying atop that silver tray is somewhat... distressing. The scrawled handwriting on the envelope is so very familiar and if Narcissa didn't know better, she would think that it belonged to her sister, Bellatrix.

But that was impossible. Bellatrix and Rodolphus had escaped from prison months ago and had been in hiding since.

Narcissa was well aware of her sister's fanatical loyalty to the Dark Lord, a man that Narcissa privately considered little more than a rabble-rouser. Lucius had warned her how dangerous the Death Eaters were and cautioned her never to speak of these things, but Tom Riddle wasn't even a Pureblood. How could anyone follow his hypocritical claims of superiority? And after Lucius had been placed under the Imperius Curse and forced to follow him, Narcissa had grown to feel more than a little hatred toward the so-called Lord Voldemort.

At any rate, her sister had no reason to contact Lucius. His influence was strictly that which his galleons could buy and that which the old and venerated Malfoy name could provide. Neither of which was enough to make the Ministry of Magic turn a blind eye to an escape from Azkaban.

Still, the temptation to open that letter was incredible. However, she would never think of invading Lucius' privacy in such a way. While she looked over the latest round of party invitations, a niggling little voice inside pointed out that keeping Lucius safe was far more important than his privacy. What if Bellatrix was hoping to manipulate Lucius? Calling on familial ties in hopes that he would intercede with the Ministry on her behalf?

Narcissa found herself rubbing the tips of her fingers together as she contemplated those thoughts and had almost convinced herself to pluck the letter from the tray when Lucius entered the dining room.

"Good morning, my love," he said cheerfully. She automatically tilted her head back as he leaned down and brushed a kiss against her mouth.

"Good morning," she murmured, her eyes still lingering on the contents of that silver tray.

She rang a small silver bell and two house elves appeared with a popping noise and began serving breakfast. As she sipped her tea, she watched her husband open the mysterious letter and begin to read. Inwardly uneasy, she saw his eyes narrow and mouth tighten briefly and then his cool, grey gaze was upon her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked quietly.

"No, nothing," he answered quickly as he folded the letter and tucked it into a pocket in his robes. "Just a change in the location of my business meeting for this evening. You remember that I shall be late for supper tonight?"

Narcissa nodded. "Yes, I remember."

"And what shall you do without me?" he teased.

"As you won't be here to distract me," she gave him an arch look, "I'll work on the menu for the Christmas dinner party. I received the last of the RSVP's this morning. Everyone's agreed to attend and I want this year to be special."

Lucius smiled indulgently. "You make every year special. And I'd much prefer to be here to distract you, my dear, but, unfortunately, business calls."

* * *

Later that evening, Narcissa had a light supper and retired to her sitting room to begin writing out the menu. Each year, it seemed that she was expected to produce a more lavish feast than the last and so she spent over two hours simply selecting side dishes and desserts.

Quill tapping idly against the parchment, she wondered if they still had any of the 1963 Port in the wine cellar. It would be the perfect finish to this meal. Perhaps if not the 1963, then the 1966... She started to summon a house elf and then hesitated. They really weren't the brightest of creatures and sometimes they misread the labels. It might be best to simply go and see for herself.

In the wine cellar, Narcissa found only three bottles of the 1963. _The 1966_, _then_, she thought. As she turned to leave, she noticed a smear of mud on the floor near the age-blackened door leading to the older part of the cellars where the truly rare wines were stored. Lucius was so very proud of his wine collection and occasionally brought a favoured visitor down for a tour; he insisted that the cellars be kept spotless at all times.

Were the house elves failing to do their jobs? Or worse, could they be _stealing_? Narcissa approached the door and reached out for the handle. When she felt no resistance, she was suddenly furious. The wards were down. If some house elf had helped themselves to Lucius' prized Armagnac Hors d'Age, they would soon live to regret it.

Narcissa opened the door, her rage propelling her into the room before she could truly understand what she was seeing.

Frozen in her tracks, Narcissa gaped and abruptly felt as if she couldn't breathe.

There stood Bellatrix, gleefully muttering, "Crucio," at the strange man writhing on the stone floor. The man's mouth was open in the silent rictus and Narcissa dimly realised that there must be a silencing spell cast on him, because she couldn't hear him screaming.

Rodolphus leaned casually against a rack of vintage Bordeaux while Lucius - _Lucius_ - watched impassively, his arms folded over his chest.

She made a small choking sound and Rodolphus and Lucius turned toward her, but Bellatrix never took her eyes from the silently shrieking man at her feet.

Narcissa looked at her husband in disbelief. There had to be some mistake. This was some awful, horrible mistake and surely he would explain it all away... But his guilty expression killed that hope instantly.

The bitter taste of bile flooded her mouth. When had his lies started? After their marriage? Before? What else was he hiding? And what of his words of devotion, the soft words whispered in the night? Were they lies, as well?

Had her entire life been a lie?

"Narcissa--" Lucius began, but he stopped as she abruptly crossed the floor and grabbed his left arm, yanking up the sleeve of his robe so violently that the fabric ripped in her hand.

"Where is it?" she demanded. "The dark mark must be there. Why can't I see it? There's a glamour covering it, isn't there? All this time you've _lied_ to me."

"Calm down," Lucius said sharply.

Narcissa took several steps back. "Calm down?" she echoed incredulously. She pointed at Bellatrix and the man lying panting on the floor. "I never wanted any part of this insanity. You _knew_ that! And now I find out that you've been lying to me. And you've brought it into my _home._"

"I love you, Narcissa, but I have obligations that I must fulfil," Lucius said, an edge of desperation in his voice. "You must understand--"

"No! I don't have to understand," she spat out. "Your promise to _me_ should be your obligation!"

Even completely focused on Lucius, she could vaguely hear Rodolphus muttering in the background and Lucius quickly turned his head and hissed, "Shut up, you know I've always taken care of this."

Narcissa shook her head. "There's nothing to take care of," she said coldly. "You've betrayed my faith. How can I ever trust you again?"

She turned and started for the door when she heard Lucius softly call her name. Then his hand was on her arm, gripping tightly and swinging her around.

"I do love you," he murmured. "Forgive me."

She opened to her mouth tell him that she didn't forgive him, that she _couldn't_ forgive him. Not for this. But then he was raising his wand and pointing it at her and, shocked, the words died in her throat.

"Obliviate," he said softly.

* * *

Her morning begins in the same fashion each day and today will be no exception. Narcissa rises before her husband and tends to her toilette, then goes down to the kitchens to ensure that breakfast is properly prepared. Lucius can be finicky about his meals and the house elves know better than to singe a piece of toast or overcook the eggs. However, Narcissa takes a great deal of pride in caring for her husband and she prefers to oversee things personally.

* * *

Author's Notes: This was a result of a challenge issued on LiveJournal's 30minutefics community which had the following directions: "This week's challenge is the Amnesia Challenge . Someone forgets something important. Who, what they forget, and what happens, are, of course, up to you." 


End file.
